Of Mice and Sacrifices
by BloodRedNotes666
Summary: George tries to save Lennie.


George stood stone still, his eyes wide in fear as he looked at the gun gripped tightly in Curley's hand. The clouds were rolling above them, dark of colour and a low rumble emerged from them. Lennie was standing in the clearing, his pale eyes flitting nervously between George and the men whose guns were glinting dangerously from the shade of the trees. Nobody had noticed the rain beginning to fall from the malicious, foreboding storm clouds. Everyone was on high alert, but Georges mind was flurrying wildly with every possible solution to the situation at hand.

"Lennie, you fucking son of a bitch!" Curley yelled through the rain. George stepped out slightly but fear froze him. Lennie looked at him pleadingly.

"I-I didn't mean too... I didn't.. Honest..." Lennie whimpered.

"Like hell you didn't!" Curley raised his gun and scowled with disgust as he aimed, "I hope you rot in hell."

"NO!" All eyes shot to George as he ran from his hiding place and stopped in between Lennie and the angry mob, slipping on the sloppy earth slightly.

"Move your ass! This hasn't got nothin' to do with you!" One of the workers snapped. George held his hands up and looked at all of them with wide eyes.

"George... George, don't let them hurt me.." He heard Lennie say behind him and he didn't reply, he was trying to control his breathing and the wild beating of his heart in his ears.

"Get out of the way!" Curley screeched and George flinched as the boxer swung his gun forward in his hands.

"Don't do this." George pleaded, "Let us go, we don't want no trouble."

"Fuck you! That big bastard killed my wife!" The gun clicked and his finger tightened around the trigger; George watching apprehensively.

"Just... You can do what you want with me, but let Lennie be." his voice came out weak and unsure, but George had never been so sure of anything in his life. Curley's brow furrowed and his lips curled into a confused frown.

"The hell you mean? You ain't the problem, the big bastard is." Curley straightened his arm and narrowed his eyes, "Now move."

George arched his head over his shoulder and looked sadly at Lennie. The man was trembling all over, the rain soaking him from head to toe but the tears streaming down his face were still clear as day. Turning back, George blinked the rain out of his eyes and focused on Curley. Any emotion, any fear disappeared and he became cold and stony as he accepted what he must do. Lennie wasn't going to die because he was to weak to try and stop it. George closed his eyes and breathed slowly out of his nose, the rain hitting his skin feeling like tiny knives but it gave more comfort than the cutting wind. He spoke now with a steady, empty voice.

"Lennie," He started, "Run."

"Wh-What?" Lennie replied, dumbfound. George didn't so much as look at Lennie, his face remained facing the mob.

"I said run. So run." He opened his dark eyes and stiffened, "Run!"

And they did. They ran. Lennie was tripping over his own feet as he blindly sprinted through the heavy rain, the sound of it all deafening him. However, the single shot of a gun rang clear through it all. Then another, and another, followed by yells and he couldn't bring himself to look behind him as he ran. George told him to run so he ran and he didn't stop until he couldn't run any more. Lennie fell to his knees and cried. He sobbed uncontrollably into his hands, panting from exhaustion. He cried for George, for Curley's wife, for the mice, for the pup, for everything... When he stopped, the rain had quietened significantly. He just knelt there in the mud.

"G-George... I'm so-sorry George..." He whimpered quietly.

"Lennie."

Lennie gasped, spinning around as he stood up to face his friend with a relieved smile. The smile dropped when he truly looked at George. The smaller man's face was deathly pale, his eyes far away and glazed over. He was leaning against a tree heavily, one hand gripping his stomach while the other hung loosely by his side. Lennie yelped in shock when he saw the red plume of blood staining the pale work shirt George always wore. Georges blood caked hand gripped it so hard as he slouched in pain.

"G-George...?" Lennie repeated shakily, his friend smiling weakly.

"You ran.. Like I said..." He whispered hoarsely.

"Sure I did, I-I will always do what you say George.." Lennie replied quickly. George chuckled, but it was cut off abruptly by a harsh cough that made his whole body shake and blood spill over his lips and down his chin. Lennie shot forward as George's legs lost themselves and he fell. Lennie caught him and laid him down gingerly on the ground. George coughed gently and swallowed whatever tried to come back up despite the protest of his body.

"You.. You did good Lennie.." George stated, a rueful smile pulling at his lips before he grimaced in pain and groaned. It was like fire, burning into him with a ferocity that made the agony unbearable.

"You gonna be okay, George?" Lennie asked softly and George bit his lip, nodding silently. He looked at Lennie sadly.

"I'll be fine..." He let out a shuddering breath as he closed his eyes forcefully, "Tell about the rabbits Lennie."

"The rabbits...?" George nodded slowly.

"About the ranch. That ten acres..." He began, trailing off with a sharp groan.

"We.. We gonna have that place you was talking about. The one with ten acres and-and the little house, the win'mill... You said if I was good, I could have rabbits. I'll have them rabbits George, and I'll let you have the softest one, I promise! Candy, Slim and Crooks will be there right? They won't have to work here no more..."

"No.." George rasped, his voice fading, "We won't.. We'll have our ranch... We will..."

"George.." no reply, not so much as a grunt or a look, "George?" still nothing. Lennie's blood ran cold as he gazed down at the still body. He was just sleeping. Just sleeping. Oh please, just be sleeping. Lennie took George's shoulders in his large hands and shook him slightly. George was completely limp i the mud, his head rolling to the side noiselessly. "George!" Lennie cried loudly; Georges body felt so frail and empty. He was unmoving, not even his chest was rising like it would if life was present. He wasn't breathing any more. Face scrunching up in disbelief and pain, Lennie stared at Georges face. He could see a small flicker of emotion still etched into his pale face: content.

"George don't leave me here..." Lennie sobbed to himself, "I ain't got nobody left... Please come back..."

No amount of crying or pleading would have brought George back. It was days later when Slim and Candy found Lennie cradling Georges body in a pool of mud and they felt an unwelcome amount of sadness and loss cutting deep into their hearts as they looked at the scene. It took hours before they could pull Lennie away and they took Georges body some place safe. A little house on a hill, with a windmill down by the river and ten acres of land left to the elements. They buried George under a big oak tree. Lennie couldn't bear it. Not alone. Slim and Candy took care of him and kept him safe and away from Curley and the workers at the old ranch.

They stayed there. They had their little ranch.

They had what they'd always wanted.

What George had always wanted.


End file.
